Medicine, Botany, Faith (and not to mention Magic Potion!)
As part of my job, I have a monthly safety spot at our departmental M&M meetings. Here is a modified version of one of the presentations discussing the importance of knowing, and using, people’s names. If you would like to download a copy of the slides, you can do so here here.
What’s in a name? from Dr Getafix on Vimeo.
The “names-on-caps” idea came from Rob Hackett and then went viral after Alison Brindle started the hashtag #TheatreCapChallenge.
One of the (many!) things I love about Human Factors/Ergonomics (HF/E) specialists is that a large chunk of their work involves studying, describing and naming “everyday” human experiences. So when I am listening to their presentations or reading their articles, it is not uncommon for me to have an “A-ha!” moment where they describe something that is very familiar to me. “Oh, that’s what that’s called!” or “Phew! I thought I was the only one that did that sort of thing!”. A relatively recent example of this for me was as at the Human Factors and Ergonomics Society of Australia conference (HFESA17) last year. This time, the everyday experience that now had a name was “Patient Work”. Continue reading “Patient Work”
The following is a report that I wrote for our Anaesthesia Equipment Committee at John Hunter Hospital in June 2017, after concerns were raised about differences in performance of different filter types, and the possible cross-contamination risks resulting from this.
It has long been known that breathing circuits are a potential source of cross infection between patients . Of particular concern are hepatitis C and tuberculosis . Eliminating this risk altogether seems unlikely, but there is ongoing debate about how best to reduce the risk, while also being conscious of financial and environmental concerns . The use of breathing system filters (BSF) is one approach that has tried to address some of the concerns, and the presumption that they protect the anaesthetic circuit from contamination by the patient and vice versa has led to the widespread adoption of BSFs as a way to reduce cost and waste by facilitating the reuse of the same circuit for multiple patients . However the practice is not universal , and no BSF is 100% effective at preventing contamination . Furthermore, as with any piece of medical equipment, the risks associated with the use of BSFs need to be considered along with their benefits . Many manufacturers now produce circuits that are approved for use for up to 1 week as long as a new BSF is used for each patient . This is the current policy at John Hunter, with the proviso that the circuit is changed immediately if it is visibly soiled, has been used for a patient with a multidrug-resistant organism, or is excessively wet. If we assume this practice will continue, then the question that needs to be answered is which filter will best protect the circuit from contamination, and that question is the main focus of this report.
I’ve previously made it into the news a handful of times as a result of my melanoma and immunotherapy treatment. It was nice to make it in this time for something other than having cancer!
Research is underway looking at how ergonomics impacts patients in hospital with the aim of boosting the provision of care.
Another day trip to Sydney, this time to Bondi. It would be great if I was going to “Sculpture by the Sea”, but no. Yet another medical appointment. Today marks 4 years since my health started unravelling. Living with cancer is tough. You often hear it described as a “battle”, however many don’t like that term as it infers that if you lose the battle you weren’t fighting hard enough. Those that do survive, must’ve fought harder. In my case I don’t think the analogy works anyway because the last few years has been a pretty passive process for me. Things being done *to* me rather than *by* me. It’s often felt like I’m just curled up in a ball while cancer kicks me repeatedly. Occasionally it, or perhaps more accurately, the treatment side-effects, seem to get bored and leave me alone for a little bit and I can catch my breath. But when I do try to get up & do something, I get whacked from behind again and I’m back on the ground.
Continue reading “4 years and still kicking (& being kicked)”
I can certainly relate to a lot of the issues discussed in the article about the pros and cons of working following a life changing medical diagnosis. But it should be obvious that there is no clear cut answer to the question, and it will inevitably change over time for any given individual as a result of disease progression/regression, as well as the duration, impact, and side-effect of any treatments. Following my diagnosis, the presence of brain mets meant that working (and many other things!) was immediately off the cards due to patient safety concerns. Not that i could’ve worked anyway due to my emotional state and the torrent of further investigations and medical appointments that came my way. and the prognosis was so bad that i gave up any hope of a return to work. However, following my dramatic response to treatment, and a gradual improvement in my symptoms, the theoretical possibility of returning to work arose. I was still in two minds though, trying to weigh up the benefits of working mentioned by the author, but has he also points out, working was now less of a priority for me, and i didn’t know how long my improved health would last. In the end, i did make to gradual transition back into the work force, but even now i still feel the tension of that question, as being sick is still essentially a part-time job in and of itself for me, with all the ongoing medical appointments, scans and blood tests. There is also the new and unusual side-effects that crop up from time to time from the immunotherapy, as well as the side-effects from the drugs used the treat the side-effects! So while i am managing to combine cancer and work at the moment, it is a question i will need to keep asking myself from time to time.
This is another post from my old blog, which will give some background to where I am today.
Debbie: Can i ask you a question?
The Grim Reaper: What?!
Debbie: How can we all have died at the same time?
The Grim Reaper: The salmon mousse!
Male Host: Darling you didn’t use canned salmon, did you?
Female Host: I’m most dreadfully embarrassed!
Monty Python, The Meaning of Life
I thought it would be good to document how my diagnosis came about…it really was one of those “bolts from the blue”.
